Vampire's Prey

Chapter 2: Marched

After a few minutes, he returns to his dead horse. I'm still tied up, but I'm grateful to have him off me.

He cuts the saddle bag off the horse's harness and tosses it by my feet as if expecting something.

I glance up at him before returning my eyes to the bag. What does he expect me to do? Pick it up? I'm tied to a trunk.

He moves behind the tree. I try twist to get a view of what he's doing, but my binds are so tight that I can hardly move. His fingers brush mine, sending a cold shiver up my arm.

He unties the rope, freeing my wrists. My arms fall to my sides, and I roll the knots out of my sore shoulders. I take a step forward, but my strained legs buckle beneath me, and my knees hit the dirt.

The rope is still attached to my right wrist, but I'm just relieved to be able to move my arms again. I rub my left shoulder, massaging it. My eyes remain down, as if avoiding him will somehow encourage him to do the same for me. This is the first time that he has given me a chance to recover, and I'm going to savor it.

Snatching my wrists up in a tight grip, he yanks both my arms back, making me squeal. By the time I realize what's going on, my wrists are tied behind my back, and he's lifting me to my feet.

He loops the rope around my stomach. My eyes struggle to keep track of his hands in my dazed state. Fear keeps me still. My body is completely at his mercy, and my only security is the hope that he won't hurt me when I'm not trying to fight him.

He yanks on the rope, compressing my middle and making me yelp. Soon the cord is secured with a knot, making it uncomfortably tight. I want to loosen it, but it's by my belly button and my arms are bound behind my back.

He removes his hands, and I immediately lose my balance, tipping forward. I can't use my arms to break my fall!

Before I hit the ground, I'm choked back by my shirt collar. He's holding me up by the back of my shirt. He pulls me upright but keeps his hands around me this time, balancing me like a broom. Draining my blood and binding me has rendered my body so helpless that I can't even stop myself from falling over, but instead of releasing me, he's content with balancing me upright. This is his desired outcome. He wants to keep me completely powerless and at his mercy.

Once I'm steady, he kneels to pick up the eyeball flask. His head is by my waistline. For the first time since he ripped the blanket off me, it feels like I may have an opportunity to beat him. I can knee him in the nose and make a run for it. My heart races as I try to build up the courage. He's digging in the bag that he cut off the horse, oblivious to my impending attack.

I move one foot back to ready my strike, but immediately regret it when I almost lose my balance again. His gaze lands on my fumbling feet. I can't do this. How could I possibly hope to outrun him when I can barely stand? I would make it no more than a few paces before tripping, then I would have to endure his wrath again. He was so oppressive before, handling me as if I had the endurance of ten men and barely allowing me to breathe. What would I have to endure if I had the audacity to knee him in the nose before failing to escape from his clutches?

He lifts up the bag, pleased with his work. Two leather strips now extrude off the top. He circles me, like a predator. I turn my body to face him, but a heavy hand lands on my shoulder to keep me in place. He rests the bag against my back and threads the straps over my shoulders and under my arms. He's turned it into a backpack and made me into his mule. Lovely.

He picks up the end of the rope connected to my middle and holds it a few inches from my face. "Walk, or you shall be dragged."

I gulp and nod. I suppose that I should just be glad that he has a use for me. As long as he needs someone to carry his stuff, I will be allowed to live.